Shadow's Claim

so loving—and yet oh, so durty—it messed wiv me mind.” He made a shuddering sound. “Seems you got over Cas quickly enough. R.I.P. tonight, demon. Hookers the worlds over will go into mourning.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to Cas. Daciano found an escape clause in the rules because he’s brilliant. Bottom line: both of them are going to live.” She tucked the polished band into a velvet pouch for safe keeping.

Instead of sharing her happiness, Salem merely said, “Sounds a little too good to be true.”

“The vampire can’t lie, and he said they’d both survive.” But Salem’s comment got her thinking. The outcome might be as she wanted it, but the crowd’s reaction might not be.

If there was a draw at the end, the rowdy and drunken Abaddonae might riot. Some entourages of fallen contestants still lingered—would they accuse Rune of fixing the tournament?

Thinking like a queen? Perhaps she should institute some precautions. She could assign soldiers to trail the entourages, then station even more guards at the ready for crowd control.

Should she ration the demon brew? No, that’d be wildly unpopular. She tapped her chin. But free baked goods would soak it up! She began scribbling her decrees for tonight.

“So you think this ‘draw’ is going to make everything just peachy?” Salem asked.

She stilled. “Maybe I do.”

“And what about the tension between the vamp and Caspion? Daciano’s still an assassin—what’s to keep him from offing Cas directly after the tournament?”

“Me. He knows I could never forgive him for that.” She’d told Daciano as much in the folly.

Salem shimmered from the backboard into a nearby drill bit. “All right, say the leech actually gives the demon a pass. You can’t be thinking that the two of them’ll just live here and be chums. Two swinging-dick alphas like that? You’re deluded if you believe they won’t be at each other’s throats.”

“It won’t happen. I won’t allow it to happen,” Bettina said, as if she were used to getting her way. Perhaps she hadn’t been in the past, but in the future—

“Don’t be a git. Daciano’s going to run Cas out of this kingdom—and your life—at the earliest.”

“They’ll both be in my life, Salem. My husband and my best friend. Eventually I’ll bring them around.”

“Lemme know how that goes for you, dovey. . . .”

She sensed Morgana arriving then. “Godmother’s here.” She’d wondered when the sorceress would show up to gossip.

Bettina and Salem were waiting in the sitting room when the doors to the spire whooshed open.

“Wine! Details!” Morgana looked different this morning. She always had a glow about her, but now she seemed cheery. . . .

They took their wine on her settee, Salem returning to his perch in Morgana’s headdress.

Instead of providing the salacious account Morgana expected, Bettina revealed the new development: that both males would survive tonight.

Yet the sorceress didn’t seem overly surprised by the information. “That’s interesting,” she said as she examined the end of a braid. “Alert me when we’re about to get to the good parts.”

“Fine! I was with the vampire, and it was wonderful, okay?”

She peered at Bettina’s neck. “He didn’t bite you?”

“No, I asked him to wait—and he did.”

“Interesting,” Morgana repeated.

“Oh, she had that leech in a right state,” Salem explained. “She could’ve asked him to slam a sun shooter, and he’d have demanded seconds. Seems the chit’s got some upskirt action we hadn’t suspected—”

“In any case,” Bettina interrupted firmly, talking over her blush, “I have a lot of stuff to do. I need to make sure we’re prepared for any reaction the crowd might have.”

“Oh, is this a bad time? It sounds like you’re a very important freakling now. Kind of a big deal. Huh?”

“One night o’ sex, and she thinks she’s Madonna,” Salem quipped.

“You’re obviously busy.” Morgana rose. “I guess I can wait till a more convenient time to talk to you about your power.”

“P-power?”

“The tides have turned. This Accession, the Sorceri will rise once more. Thanks to the scythe.”

“How? What does that mean? Y-you said you couldn’t get my sorcery back from the weapon. That it was just a conduit to get powers up to the vault.”

“I lied. I wasn’t sure if this was possible at the time, and my style is to under-promise and over-deliver. But I’ve used my unparalleled abilities and the full force of my sorcery to—how do I put this?—reverse the flow. Only two virgins and a basket of puppies had to be sacrificed for the ritual.”

Bettina swallowed, hoping she was kidding. “You’ve stolen back all the Sorceri powers?”

“Naturally I’ve collected a few abilities for my own—a kind of tax on my subjects, as it were, for our defense. But most powers will be returned to their rightful owners.”

Bettina’s heart began to pound. Like this rightful owner?

“Incidentally, after I downloaded all those powers, I uploaded a nasty little spell for our Vrekener foes.”

“What kind of spell?”

“Let’s put it this way: the mighty? Oh, how they will fall. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Bettina didn’t care, her mind focused on one thing. “Am I to get my power back?”

“There’s something you must agree to first.”

She was about to cry, “Anything!” But then Bettina realized she was no longer that girl—the one who’d begged, the one who’d agreed to the tournament in the first place. “Tell me, Morgana.”

“You must never use this power against the Valkyries. At least not until after the Accession.”

“What? Why?”

“That Valkyrie soothsayer was the one who predicted the scythe would come into play in this tournament. She provided Raum and myself with inside information,” Morgana said, adding dryly, “though she neglected to mention that she was divining for both of us.”

A Valkyrie had been turning the crank? “The raven-haired one? But you hate the Valkyries.”

“Hate? Just because I secretly wanted them all dead? It was never personal.” She waved a hand, as if at a buzzing fly. “It seems the Sept of Sorceri are now siding with the good guys. Apparently, Team Vertas doesn’t mind that I’m evil. Once you’re queen of Abaddon, I suggest you align your kingdom accordingly, so my new Valkyrie besties and I don’t have to annihilate you.”

“Team Vertas,” Bettina repeatedly dumbly. She supposed it could be worse. The great Sabine and her new husband were allying with those “good guy” factions. “I agree to your condition.”

“Good. And now that we’ve taken care of the fine print”—Morgana’s hand started to emit light—“would you like to be made whole?”

Mouth gone dry, Bettina nodded. She wished Daciano were here to see this moment. She wished Cas were by her side. And Raum.

She gazed in Salem’s direction.

“Go on, Princess, get your heart-stopping on!”

As Bettina crossed to her, Morgana raised her hand, and more light boiled up from her palm. Heated air began to flutter around the sorceress’s body, her gold jewelry vibrating.

At once, a rare wind blew, rocking the spire, bursting open the balcony doors. Rain pelted the interior. The flame chandeliers hissed and died. The wind twisted inside the round room like a tornado, scattering sodden papers and silks.

“Are you ready?” Morgana queried over the din.